Misunderstandings - Mercy76
by Xavirne
Summary: A good friend of mine has been feeling down lately. Thought he could use a little pick-me-upper.


After last week's conversation, he wasn't sure he could look at her again. The way her nose crinkled, the look in her rolling eyes, and the edgy tone that fell from the tip of her tongue, none of it sat well with him. Perhaps he pushed the subject too hard. Perhaps he crossed a line. Perhaps...

He sighed, sinking further into his chair. Going _there_ wasn't going to be easy. But he'd rehearsed this a million times. If he read into her vibes wrong, he knew this was his only opportunity to come clean. To confess. From there, if she truly loathed him, he could at least sleep peacefully knowing he tried. That he got it off his chest.

Still, it didn't make it any easier.

His heart was beating, but not in the happy-go-lucky sense. He was terrified, absolutely terrified. She was a dear friend and he really didn't want this confession to be the breaking point. What if he really did push her over the edge? What if this broke their bond and left him lonely?

No, he shook his head. She wasn't like that. She was kind, sweet. Always friendly, always lovely and loving. But, like all those who are born within this cycle, she was human. And humanity had its quirks. And she had her flaws and shortcomings.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jack let out another sigh. "I shouldn't have asked if we could grab coffee after my checkup. I should have just said the usual, 'thanks, doc.'"

He beat himself up, annoyed that he might have mucked everything up because he was overzealous. They'd been having this dance for how long now? At least five months. Five solid months of small talk and little yet deep conversations. Why, she told him her fears. Admitted that she wasn't sure she was cut out of the job. That she was stressed beyond belief. That she barely slept knowing that if she closed her eyes it might mean another life could fall victim to death. And yet, at the end of their talks, she'd offer him a smile. Tell him she'd be fine. Thank him for his listening ear and strong shoulder.

"But are you really fine?" he questioned loosely. What if his invitation to get coffee added stress to her already hectic lifestyle? What if he was the cause of all her problem? What if...

The alarm on his phone rang. It was time he leave his apartment and head to the medbay. Per the enhancement program, he as required to have routine checkups, namely to ensure that all aspects of his body were in tip-top shape. Other soldiers in the enhancement program were reporting mood swings and headaches. Jack had yet to experience them but he wasn't going to skip going to see her, even if she was the current thorn in his side.

The brisk air slapped his cheeks, turning them a rosy red color. Winter could be so harsh. To think, just months ago they were cuddling beside a fire sharing stories about the battlefield. Okay, so maybe they weren't cuddling but she was sitting so close that he could feel her warmth pool into him. So close that he could catch her breath and pick up the faint minty toothpaste she used.

Maybe, just maybe she wouldn't be there. Maybe he'd get one of the other doctors, like Jenkins or Bose. Neither compared to her, didn't help that they were both males, but they might help him avoid yet another awkward encounter.

Chewing his lip, he made a small prayer. Jack wasn't the praying type but whenever his nerves were at wits' end, he would talk to the mysterious and almighty God.

 _Please_ , he begged.

The trip to the medbay was far too quick. It seemed like minutes ago he left his house (which was actually factual). Regardless, he swallowed the lump in his throat. It was now or never.

Entering, he stiffly approached the receptionist. "Morrison for weekly checkup."

The woman with the thick nose and puffy lips looked down at her paper. "Ah, yes, Mortison. You'll be seeing Doctor Bo-" her brows furrowed.

Dr Bose! So he would be able to avoid Angela... and then he caught her furrowed brows. "Bose?" He tried to complete for her.

"My apologizes. _Morrison_ not Mortison." She shook her head and gave him a soft smile. "You'll be seeing the lovely Miss Ziegler, as always. She's ready whenever you are."

Sweat formed on his brows and panic set in. He spasmed. "Can you check again?"

"Morrison," the receptionist chuckled, "I know you have Ziegler. That's why I was confused when I saw Dr Bose. We got a new soldier in the ranks whose last name is dangerously close to yours." Large thumb falling over the door unlocking button, she gestured to the right. "Good day, sir."

Exhaling, he stepped toward the door. When the buzz sounded, he pushed through the large metal door and into the looming, overly white hallway. The short stroll down the tiled floor would kill him.

Dragging his feet, he came to the row of lockers at the end. Striping off his shirt, he never felt so exposed. So naked. So vulnerable.

Unbuttoning his pants, he reached for the plain robes. Briefs and socks were the only things allowed, unless requested otherwise. But he saw need to remove them as this wasn't one of _those_ routine checkups.

With shaky hands, he tied back the apron that looked god awful on him. No matter how handsome he was, Jack just couldn't pull off the cotton patient scrubs.

Rubbing the nape of his neck, he caught his breath between his taut lips. _Now or never_ , he mused while pressing his palms against the cool steel door. Swinging open at the hinges, he stepped into her room. And the second he did, he felt small. Like an ant among giraffes.

Silently, he took his seat at the edge of the table. Butt coming into contact with the noisy tissue paper, his intended stealthy entrance failed miserably. The second she heard him crumple up the paper, she pulled her head up from her desk.

"Morrison," her tone flat and cold.

He swallowed.

She said not another word. Instead, her hands fell against his throat before pressing and looking for swollen glands. "New reports of inflamed lymph nodes," she stated gravelly.

"I see," he murmured out of sheer nervousness.

Her cold hand danced against his throat, tickling it lightly. With each tender yet gentle press, Jack fought the urge to lean into her. She was close, so dangerously close. Why, she was standing between his open legs that laid limply over the side of the table he sat upon. If he wanted to, he could easy overpower her. Control her. Consume her. But he wasn't that kind of man, especially now. His pride was knocked down a few pegs.

"Something the matter?" she asked. For the first time since their last conversation, there was a hint of passion in her voice.

"Oh," Jack's blue eyes fell to the side, "it's nothing."

"Headaches?" Dr Angela Ziegler, pulled out a small flashlight. She shined the bright object into his eyes. "Does it hurt when I push here?" Her thumb fell flat against his cheekbones and then around his brows. To both, he shook his head no. "Let me listen to your h-"

Stethoscope on his chest, she froze. This single action caused Jack's lips to purse. "I-is something w-wrong?" The look on her face wasn't exactly a good one. When she didn't respond immediately, he asked again. "Dr Ziegler?" Again. "Angela?"

Head snapping up, her blue eyes bore into his soul. "Your vitals aren't on point. Your heartbeat is slow, unlike your usual elevated levels. You weigh less this week. You look a tad pale. You have been having headaches, haven't you?"

Rolling his shoulders forward, Jack shook his head. "No, that's not it, doc."

Angela's brows furrowed. "Mood swings? Food poisoning? Stomach bug? The flu?"

"I like you," the words exploded from his mouth like diarrhea. There was no holding them in or back. They just rushed out and smacked her right in the face.

Taken aback by his abrupt confession, Angela took a few steps away from him. She turned her back to him and pulled the ends of the stethoscope from her ears. Slowly, she moved to her desk to set down the appliance.

Her gestures were painfully slow yet deliberate, and it killed Jack. Had he fucked it up again? He didn't mean to come clean. At least not yet! He was to wait until _after_ the checkup. Not right at the start. What if she falsely reported her results. What if she got him expelled from Overwatch. What if-

She had walked back in front of him. From the look on her face, Jack knew he was about to get bad news. It was time to brace for impact. For the slow burn. The sting of rejection.

Eyes closed, he felt every ounce of his being crumble. He tried to be strong, tell himself that knowing her-even through rejection-was for the better. That it would make him a better man. No, had made him a better man. And yet, despite how much he told this to himself, he couldn't stop the tears or the pain.

"I," her voice broke the silence. "I broke up with my boyfriend."

Filtering her words, Jack pulled his head up. Blinking away the forming tears, he cocked his head at her. "B-boyfriend?" He looked at her with disbelief. "But I thought you said..." He fumbled for his cell phone (it was still in his jean pockets in the locker).

"I... I lied." Angela tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Confused, he asked her why.

"Because I was... I was afraid you'd..." her lips swished to the side, "I was afraid you'd lose interest in me." Her cheeks slowly turned red as her stare fell to the floor. "I... I..." she was at a loss for words.

"But," Jack scooted just a bit closer to her so his feet were flush with the floor and his rump lightly resting on the rounded end of the table. "Last week..."

She shook her head. "I," she forced her gaze up, "I had to end things. I couldn't... I couldn't go out with you knowing that I was still tied to him."

"But," Jack pushed off the table and stepped closer to her. "But you rolled your eyes at me and," he was trying to piece this all together.

Shuddering, Angela's arms wrapped around herself. She felt so small beside him. He was only 5 or 6 inches taller than she and yet she felt like she was three feet tall beside him. She felt so weak. So vulnerable.

"You," Jack also fought to find his voice.

"I know," her teary eyed stare broke him. His shoulders dropped and his lower lip quivered. "I know I hurt you but I... I had to make sure I..." A tear rolled down her cheek. "I had to know that..." She took a ragged breath. Her body shook as she cracked under the pressure.

Lips parting, Jack took that cue. Closing the gap between them, he wrapped his endearing arms around her. Brought her quaking body in close and squeezed out all her jitters and fears.

" _Shhh_ ," he cooed while burying his face in her pale golden locks. "I don't care," he whispered.

"B-but," her doe-like sad, wide blue eyes looked longingly into his.

Clearly her antics from last weak hurt her just as much as they hurt him. How could Jack be mad? She did all that for him. So that she could actually be single, be free.

His warm hand curled around her thin face and his thumb brushed back the tears. " _Don't_ ," he pleaded with her.

Her sorrowful, pitiful blue eyes made her look so shameful, so small. She'd done nothing wrong and yet she was taking all the blame. She was suffering just as much as he was.

Clearing his throat, Jack nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Listen," that single word caused her to calm up or at least calm enough that she focused on his words, "why don't we go for a walk after this thing?"

"A-a walk?" Angela cocked her head.

"Yeah," Jack chuckled lightly, surprised that she was so shocked by the invitation. "A walk through the park. The snow looks pretty and the fresh air might do us some good."

Chewing her lip, Angela blushed. "I've... I've never done that before." Then she frowned. "And I didn't bring a jacket."

"You can borrow mine," he smiled sweetly at her.

"But won't you be c-"

"Not if you're holding my hand," he gushed with a gleeful shimmer in his soft blue eyes.

" _Oh_ ," she blushed before finding her smile. "Well then, let's finish this up."

Back on the table Jack sat. This time, he wore a peaceful smile on his lips rather than that stiff frown from earlier.

"And Jack," Angela blushed, "I'm sorry."

His brows furrowed. "For...?"

"This misunderstanding."


End file.
